


Asunder

by Tatzlwyrm



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatzlwyrm/pseuds/Tatzlwyrm
Summary: The travails and travels of warlock, poet, and sometimes mystic Juniper-108. Told in a mostly-linear, mostly-peculiar way.





	1. Chapter 1

**A Brief Warning**

 

“Warlocks have strange minds. It is time we laid that fact bare amid the snickering of Titans, the sidelong glances of Hunters, and the grandiose pretension of our own kind. We are strange, and to admit that is to make peace with our purpose. The intensity and acuity required to peel the Light apart like an onion, the sheer intelligence and boldness of thought that it takes to unlock the secrets hidden in the folds of reality…these things either require strangeness or beget it. Think on the peculiar machinations of the Voidwalker, who has become accustomed to thinking unthoughts in languages with no words; the singular focus of the Stormcaller, the living paradox of storm and still, life and death; the daft, daft hope of the Sunsinger, who rages and howls a dirge against the coming night: 'Not yet; no, not yet.'

 

[ _There is no separation between us, for I suffer here in these flames._ ]

 

All of these, I suppose, are forms of madness. The universe we live in is mad. All that has happened since the Collapse is mad. If we did not seek to understand this madness we would have been lost long ago – this is the task and the burden of the order of Warlocks. Stare into the abyss long enough, and it stares right back.

  
I don’t ask you to understand. Keep up your snickering and glancing, only, don’t begrudge us our strangeness.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hymn 65

**JUNIPER-108**  
  
We rise together this morning,  
My light and my life.  
Would that I could feel the warmth of you,  
Crown of Heaven, Lord of Wheels.  
Do you know how I wake  
And watch you slumber?  
What do you dream of,  
My Sword and my Shield?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlocks "Helmouth," "Empress," and "Zendo" discuss the failure of recent Hidden applicant Juniper-108.

**Hidden Enclave Meeting**

Callsign: “Helmouth”

Callsign: “Empress”

Callsign: “Zendo”

 

**Helmouth:** This don’t feel right. Our enemies, our targets, are all outside the city. Should we really be spying on our own? 

**Empress:** We just want to find out how she does it.

**Zendo:** It makes no sense, just like everything else about her.

**Helmouth:** When has the Light ever made sense? Trying to discern its purpose is like…

**Zendo:** Spare me the metaphor. If making sense of the Light is futile then we have no function. 

**Empress:** Correct. It is through years of study that we, all of us, came to the understanding of the Light that allows us to channel it so effectively. 

**Helmouth:** So you are jealous?

**Zendo:** She is an idiot.

**Helmouth:** And you are jealous of this idiot?

**Empress:** What he means, [Helmouth], is that we discovered something…troubling during her judgment.

**Helmouth:** That she was not qualified to join the Hidden? Most are not.

**Empress:** Massively unqualified. She appears to have no formal knowledge or understanding of the movements of the quanta…

**Helmouth:** I have no formal knowledge or understanding of the quanta.

**Zendo:** And so you are not a Sunsinger. Stop interrupting.

**Empress:** …And she manifests Solar energy with an output level on par with any I have ever seen. 

**Helmouth:** How?

**Empress:** Sheer devotion.

**Helmouth:** Devotion? Are you not devoted to your cause?

**Empress:** Do not test me, [Helmouth]. Our devotion stems from understanding and secret knowledge. Her stems from delusion and fanaticism. Like the Hive and their gods, or the Fallen with their Primes.

**Zendo:** Or worse, like the Speaker. 

**Helmouth:** And if she had secret knowledge, you would know it.

**Empress:** I would.

**Helmouth:** Tell me her name.

**Zendo:** Juniper-108.

**Helmouth:** 108\. Does that number mean anything to you?

**Zendo:** It means she has a cortex like cold porridge.

**Helmouth:** You have met Banshee-44. Is it possible that she has this knowledge and simply…forgot it?

**Empress:** How can she sing a song she has forgotten?

**Zendo:** Why don’t you ask her.

**Helmouth:** Yes, why don’t you?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hymn 66

**JUNIPER-108**

 

They have caught me staring at you

And must think me a fool

To be so coy. 

What shyness possesses me

As if I do not know you,

As if we have only just met.

I do not like to hear,

“Whose is this? Who does she belong to?”

Let me hear, “She is mine, mine,

This one is mine.” You remember me,

And for that I love you. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, something actually happens.

When I first saw her I assumed she was looking at the Traveler. It’s not an uncommon sight for even a Tower veteran to stop every once in a while and just take in the view; the massive alabaster sphere, pitted and scarred, hanging silently over the last city. She was sitting, looking out over the balcony from a patch of grass – just sitting in the planter like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then, suddenly, she rose into a peculiar stretch, hopped down, and turned on her way.

I was hunting with Cricket-3 at the time. Big guy, had a real precise way of doing things. Wouldn’t go anywhere unless he had a hunter  **and** a warlock with him, and most of the time that hunter was me. This time, the warlock was her.

“What about her?” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the warlock, who was just passing us by.

“Six,” Cricket said instinctively, “No, seven.”

I shook my head. “I mean for Mars.”

He blinked. “What do you figure; Voidwalker?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“Might.” He didn’t look at me, just sort of tilted his head and kept staring. “Nah, not in a getup like that. Not enough black.”

“Hey, fashion police. She’s getting away.”

“Go get her then, hunter.”

I looked to see if he was serious. He had on that cocky half-smile of his, which meant that he was. I pushed into the crowd.

“’scuse me, miss,” I said, reaching out to tap her on the shoulder. She didn’t react, so I tried again.

This time the reaction was immediate. She wheeled around, startled, and seemed genuinely surprised to see someone standing there. I wondered if, perhaps, I had been too insistent.

“Yes?” Her eyes darted, the white irises glowing brightly.

“My friend and I,” I began, sweeping my arm vaguely toward Cricket, who had the decency to wave, “Have to go to Mars on Vanguard business. We could use a third.”

“A third what?” she asked, and I laughed. She wasn’t joking.

I collected myself. “A third Guardian.”

Her expression brightened. “Oh, you’ll find plenty of those around here.”

I wasn’t sure if she was screwing with me or not, but she hadn’t left. I pressed on. 

“Would you be willing to help us?” I asked, deliberately avoiding vague language.

Her expression relaxed with the relief of understanding. “Oh, certainly. When shall we leave?”

“We’re in a bit of a time crunch,” I explained, “So if we could leave now that would be ideal. You’ll be briefed on the way.”

Ghost floated listlessly out of the fold in my cloak that he had been calling home and added her to the fireteam, linking his telemetry with that of her Ghost, which was already hovering over her palm. It was a battered, scraped-up little thing that looked like it had seen some shit, but was apparently no worse for wear. 

“You got a name?” I asked while the two robots synced up. I’d know the answer in a few seconds regardless, but it just seemed right to ask. 

“Juniper,” she said, smiling, “Juniper-108.” 

I guess she had already been preparing her ship for the transmat because the moment she linked in, she vanished. Cricket nodded and followed suit, leaving me on the ground for a brief moment longer. Just enough time for me to hear a Guardian snicker nearby.

“There goes Loopy Jupe,” somebody muttered, and then I was gone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hymn 67

JUNIPER-108

 

Such snow!

Planet of fire, a beloved son.

Let me roll in it, let me eat the dust

That falls, like crystallized starfire.

If I do, who could harm such a one as I?

Who are these ones that crawl about like ants

Defiling the mirror of your glory

O Lord Like Saffron, Protector of Saints?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the Exclusion Zone.

The Exclusion Zone is never a fun trip. It’s made less fun by the presence of the Vex. The Virgo Prohibition apparently got their shit together enough that they were able to force the issue with the Sand Eaters, emptying the bunkers and towers on the west rim of the Exclusion Zone. 

The Cabal leader in charge of the defense, Bracus Tou’um, fell in the siege, along with the majority of his host. Evidently there were survivors, as they managed to call in the Dust Giants, who showed up to bail them out. The situation had turned into a clusterjam of Vex and Cabal forces, both of whom were now fighting for their very survival. Our plan was to get into the thick of it and extract the 800-pound corpse of Tou’um before the Dust Giants could get to it. This could be any given Tuesday for the Vanguard.

First thing I did when I landed was mount up. I’m not a guy who draws x’s and o’s in the dust; so long as everyone’s been briefed, makes more sense to me to call in the Sparrow and go. I have this habit of trusting the people I work with. Even the newbies.

Cricket had no such compunctions.

“Get rid of that damn Kvostov,” he growled. First words he ever said to the girl.

A common enough sight in the Cosmodrome, these old weapons are sturdy but poorly designed – practically useless. 

“I like it,” she said breezily.

“I don’t. Hold out your hand.” It wasn’t a suggestion, not coming from Cricket.

Surprisingly, she did as she was told. 

“Warlock should really be using a scout rifle,” he complained, and thrust something heavy into her outstretched hand. “But this will do.”

It was a hand cannon, a Mos Aria or something, one of those skinny blue ones. Still, I was almost surprised to see Cricket so liberal with it.

“I’ll need that back,” he added. Like I said, almost surprised.

Juniper only nodded. If she was bothered at all by what had just transpired, she didn’t show it. 

“If you’re finished,” I said, having already mounted my Sparrow, “We have a job to get to.”

It used to be a lot harder to bust through the Exclusion Zone. Sure, a strike team on Sparrows stood a good chance of being able to slip past whatever Cabal infantry happened to be guarding the pass, but at that time you had to be ready for a fight. This time I watched a Legionary’s eyes follow me from a rampart – just watching as we sped between the dunes and on our way. With most, or all, of the Cabal leadership in this system eliminated, it seemed a wonder that they stayed at all. Maybe they’re stuck here. Maybe they’re waiting for reinforcements. Either way, I don’t like thinking about it. 

Ghost led us to the base, a massive fortification with the typical Cabal trappings. The banners were torn and scorched, but we didn’t have time to appreciate the scenery – Hobgoblins on the outer wall were firing on us, sending long bolts of solar energy our way before we even dismounted. I took this as a good sign – if the Vex had a rearguard still intact, it meant that the Dust Giants hadn’t shown up yet.

I decided to return the favor, rolling into a crouch and firing a few sniper rounds of my own. Juniper threw a grenade, nailing one of them and herding the rest away from the entrance. Cricket charged in headfirst, closing the distance with bursts from his auto rifle. Despite my initial doubts, the first step went flawlessly. 

Cricket cleaned up on the wall, and Juniper and I breezed past him. He followed behind, catching up as we picked past shattered Vex chassis and dead Sand Eaters. Following the trail of carnage made this a pretty straightforward infiltration.

Juniper had eyes on first, and plugged a Goblin in the back. A whole horde of Virgo Prohibition were lurching their way through the bunker, jittering through time and space and converging on a single location deeper within. For all their timeless machine intelligence, they still weren’t immune to being caught in the flank.

As I joined the fray I saw her toss another bomb in, catching the whole group in the radius of a miniature sun. I remember being surprised at how fast she had another one out, but hey, I guess some people can just do that. Made clearing the hallway that much easier, I can say that much. I closed with a Minotaur and knifed the sucker, then backed up and let him burn away while I hit the rest of the force from range. We barely lost any momentum.

It was a scrap all the way into the vehicle bay. If I were a betting woman, and I am, I’d put Glimmer that the Bracus herded his men in there to try and escape the oncoming Vex but was gunned down during the evac. The thing about Cabal is they don’t leave a man behind, especially not someone that valuable. So the Interceptors that were supposed to have been long gone were turned around and aimed at the door, barraging the Vex as they tried to get in. By the time we got there, all but one had been incapacitated already. We made sure the last one followed suit.

The Sand Eaters almost stopped firing when they saw us bust in there. Almost. I felt kinda bad for the poor guys. They’d been in here holding off the Vex for who knows how long, and then suddenly Cricket’s shooting a rocket at your last Interceptor. I held back and took care of anyone who made the mistake of having a head in my sightline, but Juniper glided in like a spirit. She tossed another sunbomb into the back line and danced right up to a Centurion, this big fucker who stood at the front of his legion like a bulwark. Everything stood still for a second – she was looking up at him, all 1,000 pounds of sheer Cabal badass, like a cat sizing up a steamroller. She wasn’t scared of him, and I think that made him mad.

He didn’t have to be mad for very long. She curled her fingers and opened them again, pushing outward with her palm like she wanted nothing more than to brush him away. Flame sparked and crackled across his shield, and it vanished in an instant. Burning now, the Centurion lifted his projection rifle up to crack her skull with. I took the shot. 

In a torrent of black sludge we cut down the remainder of the Sand Eaters. Cricket watched the door, and Juniper did that peculiar stretch again. I approached the Bracus, and Ghost floated over the dead Cabal’s helmet, scanning.

“Got the codes,” he said after a bit, “But there’s something else you should hear.”

He began to broadcast the sound; a deep, guttural speech, shrouded in radio static.

“Our friend’s comm unit is still picking up transmissions,” Ghost explained, “And we’re about to have visitors.”

“Dust Giants?” I asked, and before Ghost could respond I had my answer.  

The bay doors behind us slid open


	8. Chapter 8

To the untrained eye, all Cabal look alike.

I understand how a Titan, gleefully focused on how satisfying it would be to punch out the biggest mamma-jamma in the system, or a Warlock, whose mind is no doubt a thousand miles away and dreaming besides, might miss the more subtle differences.

Hunters, well, we hunt. Spending long watches alone, stalking your quarry through sun and storm, you learn how your enemies think, how they behave; better than even they do. And you sure as hell figure out what they look like.

The armor on these newcomers was too dark, the orange markings too bright, to be Dust Giants. These were Blind Legion, and we were well and truly screwed.

Cricket shouted for us to get to cover, but there wasn’t much to be had – just a couple of smoldering Interceptors and the dead Sand Eaters. What made taking the bay so easy for us was about to do us in.

We laid down some fire and I tossed in a ‘nade, but this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk like earlier. The Blind Legion are the elite Cabal on Mars, trained and equipped to plunder Vex catacombs. What would have wiped out a lesser unit did little to stop the advance of these seasoned troops – as if there were such thing as rookie Cabal.

I found Cricket crouching behind a wrecked Interceptor and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got a Shadowshot ready. I’ll pin ‘em, you smash ‘em with Fist of Havoc.”

Cricket shook his head. “I used it during the first fight, thought we’d be done by now. Juniper, you’ll have to hit them with grenades.”

There was no Guardian to answer. Panicking, I peered over the top of our makeshift bulwark just in time to see Juniper get cut down in a hail of Cabal microrockets. The second she fell, her Ghost popped up to mark her location. In a heartbeat a Centurion was on it, reaching a grasping, curious hand out to the Ghost. Suddenly his movement was arrested.

In spite of the heavy fire I had fired a void anchor, nailing a Phalanx and pulling all of the Cabal toward that single point. Cricket and I took advantage of the confusion to fire on the Cabal, but to my dismay I saw the Centurion still clawing for Juniper’s ghost, which hovered there placidly as the meaty fist grew closer and closer.

Suddenly there was a flash, and Juniper erupted out of the air, a burning halo surrounding her. She moved like one in a trance, her wrists and fingers moving peculiarly, as if she were performing an intricate ritual dance. With each extension of her arm a solar grenade was flung out amid the Cabal, searing them and tracing a fiery filigree all over their armor. She just kept unloading, one after the other, until I had to shield my eyes. There was not a spot on that floor that hadn’t been converted into a miniature sun. Those poor bastards must have roasted alive.

When all was said and done there was nothing left of the Blind Legion but cinders. Juniper stretched and walked calmly back toward us.

“Next time,” she said to me sweetly, “Do it like that.” Then, in counterpoint, she gestured to the dead Sand Eaters all around. “These ones have died, in dust and darkness. It’s sad.”

While I puzzled over that, Cricket laughed and nudged Juniper with his shoulder, enough to knock her off balance. Strange that she seemed so poised only a minute ago.

“Don’t scare me like that! Speaker’s balls, kid, you had me worried.”

Juniper laughed and walked out of the vehicle bay, seeming to bask in the sun for a moment. I followed her out, taking a seat in the sand. She was staring at the sun, and I was beginning to suspect it wasn’t the Traveler she was looking at when I first saw her.

“Did we get the thing?” she asked softly. Her voice was tinged with worry, like a child afraid of asking a stupid question.

“Yes,” I told her, “The Cryptarchs at the Tower will have a field day going through all the data we just pulled.”

She nodded distantly, and I saw her shoulders slump with what was either relief or fatigue.


End file.
